


the gentleman is not in your books

by lady_with_cats



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: F/M, Regency Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_with_cats/pseuds/lady_with_cats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>three scenes from a regency romance au</p>
            </blockquote>





	the gentleman is not in your books

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostcat/gifts).



> _I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. – Much Ado About Nothing_

*

The Saperstein house party was now in its third day, and Lord Henry Higgs was attempting to hide in the library. The party was in delayed celebration of Lord Saperstein’s daughter Maureen’s nuptials a few months prior. Henry had barely known either the bride or the groom, but Lord Saperstein had been a mentor to him and so he had felt obliged to go. 

He had  _not_  realized this meant Lord Saperstein would see this as his implicit agreement to attend every wedding related party afterward. He wasn’t even quite sure why he had been convinced it was too late to back out, but he recalled something about odd numbers for Lady Saperstein’s dinner table.

He almost suspected Lord Saperstein of some underhanded matchmaking, considering the other conspicuous party guest – Miss Eliza Dooley. But surely, despite Lord Saperstein’s pointed remarks about their compatibility after they narrowly saved the wedding from disaster, he was above playing cupid. Perhaps this invitation had been some perverse form of gratitude?

And Miss Eliza Dooley was, well. She was not infamous precisely. She was universally regarded as quite charming in fact, but equally as universally seen as flighty in the extreme. They would be by all (presumed) accounts, a terrible couple. Besides which, she was a notorious flirt, which was precisely the opposite of what he sought in a partner.

It was perhaps these uncharitable thoughts that drew karmic retribution, for as he turned into what he had assumed was a secluded nook in the back of the room, he found the very woman he had just mentally dismissed.

“I- Good Morning, Miss Dooley.”

Miss Dooley slowly looked up at him from her novel. She wore large black rimmed reading glasses, and the sunlight gilded her red hair, styled today in twin plaits. The sight would have been endearing, for he had only ever seen her fearsomely attired for ton entertainments, but she looked somehow subdued.

“Oh, it’s you, Henry.” She seemed as puzzled to see him as he was to see her. “Were you hoping to escape riding out with Freddy and Lord Saperstein?”

He startled himself by answering honestly. “Is it so very obvious? Their spontaneous athletic challenges have quite worn me out, I fear.”

She smiled up at him, and lifted the glasses on her nose a touch with her finger. “Well it was certainly entertaining to watch you all wrestle in the mud for no good reason.”

“I believe Lady Saperstein would strongly agree with you, if her reception of Lord Saperstein upon his return to the house was anything to go by.”

Briefly they both contemplated the Saperstein’s evidently still passionate marriage before breaking into laughs.

He tilted his head curiously to read the title of her book. “ _My Fair Lady_? I have not read that one. I had no concept you were a reader of such dedication, to miss out on such a beautiful day. Especially as I believe Lady Joan mustered the ladies for a picnic lunch at breakfast.”

She seemed startled by his question, looking back at the open pages before her as if she’d forgotten they were there. She frowned down at the book, and with a sudden ache he hoped he had not upset her somehow. “I thought a day inside would be restful.” She turned and gazed mournfully outside through the window behind her. “Everyone needs a restful day sometimes.”

“Well I cannot rightly contradict you, considering I am standing here-”

“Oh, I simply cannot stand it!” With that pronouncement, she threw the book down beside her. He almost reached over to spare the book such abuse but Miss Dooley threw up her hands sharply, in seeming despair. “Lady Joan  _hates_  me. That is why I cannot be at the picnic. I don’t want to antagonize her further with my uncouth manner.”

“Well. That is- uh. That is certainly-”

“And if Lady Joan never invites me to one of her exclusive dinner parties, I will never be respectable enough for Freddy to marry me!”

At this point Henry realized he was not going to escape this conversation with polite agreement and inconsequential asides.

“Is that... something you  _want_?” If he was honest with himself, Henry did not very much like Freddy (no one even bothered to call him by his proper title, which frankly said everything). And what kind of man refused to marry a woman on the basis of a dinner party invitation?

“Yes! More than anything! We have been engaged to be engaged for years.” Miss Dooley placed her head on her hands and leaned forward glumly. “I will be a spinster forever, Henry. I cannot bear it any longer.”

It was rare indeed that Henry felt a perfect sympathy with another’s feelings. It was especially peculiar that the particular someone was Eliza Dooley.  But as it happened Henry did understand Miss Dooley –  _Eliza_. He was not a particularly lively man, preferring to venture out into society only when forced to by close associates or in pursuit of a business interest. Even so, he missed the warmth of a family. The one woman he had known from his childhood and for many years intended to marry had passed him over for another man, and he had never since been comfortable striking out on a romantic endeavour. And yet, he did not want to be alone forever.

“I do understand you El- ah, Miss Dooley. Perhaps not the specific case of Freddy, but yes- I do not want to be a confirmed bachelor either.”

Eliza glanced back to him, momentarily distracted from her own troubles. “Forgive me Henry but you do not strike me as a man that wants for the matrimonial opportunity. You are titled, connected, and well regarded by all. And surely at your age your fortune is quite settled. What could possibly be holding you back?”

“I may not face the disapprobation of Lady Joan, but I fear I will never successfully woo any woman I love. I am so often adrift in society’s many strictures regarding love that I have quite given up.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment, before sighing dramatically and draping herself across the reading nook. “We are a sorry pair then, with both of us desirous of the state of marriage, but lacking the right partner to enter it with.”

It was in that moment that Henry had what could be termed a bright idea.

“But... perhaps... we can be of aid to each other.”

He crouched down at a height with Eliza and started motioning excitedly. In turn, she glanced at him skeptically, with a single raised brow. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before- I am perfectly placed to draw you into respectability Miss Dooley-”

“ _Well_ , it is true you are generally a perfect bore, Henry. But unfortunately that does not ensure you can get me an invitation to Lady Joan’s dinner parties.”

“No,  _no_! I will train you and improve your presentation and manners, and you will surely win over Lady Joan with your newfound propriety.” He rose and clapped his hands together. “We can begin immediately. I will need the Cook, some freshly cut flowers and gift wrapping but-”

She put her hand up imperiously before he could elaborate.

“Henry-”

He felt some niggling worry at the impropriety of her casual address. Surely they were considered barely acquainted? It was too late to say anything now, considering they had so many other things to work on that took priority. And, in fairness he had privately started to refer to Miss Dooley as Eliza in his head. Of course, that would have to remain a private presumption.

“-blink once if you’re secretly in love with me!”

Henry blinked immediately. It was quite involuntary.

“Miss Dooley!”

“Blink once if you’re secretly in love with me and unwilling to admit it!”

This time Henry tried his damndest to force his eyes to remain open. He was not very good at it. He turned away from Eliza’s curious gaze. “My eyes are extremely dry! That was not a declaration of love!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“No man can stop blinking forever!”

Eliza crossed her arms and stood up. Attempting to rapidly stand up from his crouch, Henry nearly fell backward into a bookshelf.

“Well then,  _Lord Higgs_ , I must ask you why you are so invested in spending all this time with me? Because I assure you, my reputation will not transform in one day, or a week, or perhaps even a month. I am the ton’s foremost declared flirt, sir! I create a fashion in whatever I do. I am quite sure Lady Joan is probably cursing my recalcitrant absence from her picnic this very moment!”

“The reason why I want to help you, Miss Dooley, is because I  _can_  help you. You deserve your happiness, as I believe I deserve mine. And your reputation is exactly why I think you can help me in turn. If we work with a little bit of you, and a little bit of me, we will have a winning combination.”

“Help  _you_? With... with wooing a lady?” She seemed to consider the thought of it for a moment. She narrowed her eyes at him, as if mentally measuring him in some unknown standard. And then she started to smile, rather deviously. “I suppose that would make me a matchmaker. That  _does_  seem rather romantic.”

“Quite acceptably romantic, too.”

“Yes, just so.” Eliza nodded once decidedly to herself. “I believe we should shake on it.” With that she held out her hand to Henry, expectant and challenging all at once.

“Very well.” Henry had never shaken on a deal quite so strange, but one had to do what one had to do. “To be clear, I already have a specific lady in mind.”

“Have you been watching her from afar, Henry?” Eliza grinned teasingly before her customary giggle broke through. “Very well, but I reserve the right to draw up a list of back-ups.”

“Love doesn’t have back-ups, Miss Dooley.” Henry realized he was being just a touch grandiose, considering he had confessed his romantic incompetency to Eliza not a quarter of an hour earlier. She brought it out of him perhaps. For once he wanted to make the effort to rise to her teasing. Was this banter? It was quite enjoyable.

“Oh  _please_. Let me worry about that. For now you had better teach me how to curtsy properly.”

*

“Who’s in there with him? Is it the Prince Regent?”

“No, Miss Dooley.”

“Well is it...  _the King_!? No? Then stand aside, Charlie. Whoever Henry is meeting with will surely understand.”

Eliza hurried past Henry’s very tall, very dour butler, Charlie, jostling him out of the way and closing the study door behind her. Exactly how she had managed to slip away and follow him home from the ball was not a thought he was inclined to examine too closely. His excuse for leaving early had been to avoid the crush of carriages as the ton dispersed, but she had apparently seen right through that. Clearly Eliza had been evaluating his romantic progress the entire evening.

“How fortunate, there’s no one else in here after all!”

She seemed to pause for a moment and then dipped into a shallow bow. “Goooood evening, Lord Higgs.” As she straightened she smiled beatifically, clearly proud she’d remembered the minor courtesy.

“Well? Tell me how it went, Henry! What time did you set for your oh-so-proper stroll through Hyde Park with Lady Julia?”

Henry walked away from the window, expecting her to approach him as he stood before his desk. For a moment he looked at his papers, both business and personal estate business, and thought woodenly that he would never escape them.

Eliza suddenly appeared opposite him, dropping into his usual seat. Her frame almost melted into the cushioned upholstery before she righted herself. “Henry, where did you get this chair? I shall get one just like it for my own bedroom. It is so very chic.”

“Miss Dooley, it is quite improper for you to have followed me home this way. And you are forever abandoning your chaperone, which will hardly endear you to Lady Joan. How can your campaign of self improvement ever succeed if-” 

“Henry, I am not a debutante fresh from finishing school, in dire need of protection from more unscrupulous members of the ton. I do believe I  _am_  one of those disreputable types. Besides, you are hardly likely to impugn my virtue. You haven’t ever called me by my first name in all the time we’ve been friends.”

Henry put aside the questionable nature of that defence (he  _especially_  did not wish to expand on the numerous improper actions that had crossed his mind since he had come to know Eliza) and instead looked over to his liquor cabinet. He was not usually one for imbibing after the gaiety of a ball, but on this particular night he almost understood what drove men to drink away their woes.

“You do know that  _I_  am the master of deflection in this partnership, don’t you Henry? Now answer my question. Really, it can’t have been  _that_  awful, all you were meant to do was ask-”

“Lady Julia was not of a mind to see me tomorrow or indeed any day. Not in the way I seek.”

Eliza’s mouth turned instantly to a frown. Her brows went up. “Is she affianced already then? She has kept it very quiet, if so. Or is she not interested in suitors of the male persuasion at all?” Her head tilted to the side, a stray curl falling from her elegant bun to tease her cheek.

Henry felt some measure of amusement as her assessment of his chances. “Really, Miss Dooley, you extend me such credit in the question of matrimony. I am hardly as irresistible as all that. My many faults, as you yourself enumerated when we first met, are quite enough to drive away any woman.”

Eliza’s frown deepened. She sat forward and reached out across the desk to take his hand. Not for the first time, he allowed Eliza the impropriety.

Some small part of him hoped it would not be the last time, either.

“Henry, whatever your faults, you are a very good man. I have never met a man who I trust so implicitly to care for those he claims responsibility for. And you are perhaps more reserved than other men, but you feel fathoms more. Any woman should be lucky to marry you.”

For a moment Henry looked into Eliza’s eyes, and he almost let himself believe that her praise meant that  _she_ -

But Henry was of far more sensible stock than that. He slipped his hand from hers and walked toward the decanter set on his sideboard. Charlie would likely be surprised to know that Henry did on occasion enjoy a small glass of whisky, and Henry was feeling rather more foolish than his usual wont. Whisky was by far the better outlet for bad choices.

“It is perhaps more correct to say that the woman I love should be lucky to marry me. For anyone else, it would be rather inconvenient. Apparently.”

Despite the small intelligence the gossips of the ton would attribute to Eliza, she was in fact one of the most emotionally astute people Henry had ever known. In fairness, perhaps she did not always control her own feelings. But in the moments she paused to look about her, Eliza was second to none in her perception of what really lay within the still waters of the men and women of high society. She was charming yes, but also when she tried, capable of great empathy.

She grasped his meaning almost as soon as he finished speaking. “She believes you to be in love with someone  _else_?” Eliza swiftly flicked from astonishment to confusion and finally settled on amusement. She closed her eyes a moment as if to savour a particularly funny comment. He pulled his thoughts away from Eliza’s face altogether. He had grown accustomed to staring at it, in hope of familiarizing himself with what now seemed like her infinite expressions. He realized now that it was rather bad form to stare at a women he had no intention of romancing. It gave people the wrong idea.

As if on cue, Eliza giggled. “Who does she- oh it doesn’t even matter. As I told you, you have to be very clear about your serious interest. Lady Julia is a contented bluestocking, and hardly has the patience to take up with a man who is not very clear about his feelings toward commitment.”

“I was as clear as a man can be, short of actually asking for her hand there and then.”

“Perhaps you believe so, but Henry, your idea of emotional clarity is hardly universal.” Eliza twisted in her seat, turning to face him at the side of the room more fully. “Did you take her hand at any point during the ball? Did you even dance with her?”

“Well... no. But she and I had a very stimulating conversation about the relative merits of-”

“I suppose it’s too much to expect that you kissed her, after you led her away from the main ballroom?”

Henry almost coughed up the only sip of whiskey he’d managed to actually drink. “Yes, that  _would_  be entirely too much to expect! I just wanted some quiet away from the ballroom and suggested we stroll. And when I asked her, if she would object if I called upon her-”

“Henry, I do believe this is the one area in which I am unquestionably the expert. I think I shall have to give you a simplified guide tonight, and we can plot out a more detailed strategy when the time comes.”

Eliza straightened from her (his) seat, shaking out the folds of her gown. It had a baby pink bodice and red skirt. Henry thought wonderingly that it was a touch subtler than her usual tastes. Eliza’s favourite new French modiste, Madame Charmonique, had infused her wardrobe with gorgeous materials and tones that suited her cream complexion. Henry was not a snob when it came to fashion, he was just... particular. He rather thought her bodice was the same shade as the dress she had been wearing the first time he had ever seen her. She had almost looked like a dream of pink satin and sparkle.

But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Eliza stepped in front of him. She took the glass from his hand, which was probably for the best, he was likely to have dropped it, and had yet to take a second sip. Pushing him aside, she placed it on a tray behind him.

“Lesson number one: when you are talking to a woman you wish to indicate interest your interest in, find some small excuse to take her hand.”

He found quite unexpectedly that he was holding her hand. When had she-

“Lesson number two: if she does not pull away or show disinterest, you should move closer. Not too close, but dancing is a quite respectable avenue of flirtation.”

Henry, at that very moment, felt talking itself was quite enough flirtation for him. He looked down to where Eliza held his left hand against his chest. Surely she did not need to be quite so close?

“Lesson number three: after seeing her socially for some time, and if she has continues to admit your advances and you wish to show her your honourable intentions, indicate your wish for a private audience with her.”

Henry looked up, just in time to have Eliza place a cool hand on his cheek. His cheeks were surely burning, and he was so warm, surely she would realize-

“Stand close. Place a hand on her cheek, or brush her hair from her face. Look into her eyes. Lean forward. But don’t kiss her.”

He almost groaned. Why-

Eliza smiled. “Let her kiss  _you_.”

It was. It was  _intolerable_.

He placed a steady hand on her waist, and pulled her infinitesimally forward against him. She dropped his other hand, and blinked once at him, owlishly. He didn’t lift a hand to her face, didn’t brush that single curl back from her cheek. After all, she had not admitted his advances and he was hardly a rogue.

She did not blink as she searched his face, eyes drifting to his lips and then sharply back to his eyes. Henry told himself she was far more intimately entwined than she could have intended. Her pause was simply surprise. A gentleman did not  _assume_. But oh, he wished he could be someone other than himself for once. A man who was unafraid to kiss the woman he loved. The woman he only loved more the longer he knew her. He could feel his jaw tense, holding himself back. Waiting for her to kiss  _him_.

“Eliza-”

The moment broke as suddenly as slipping out of a daydream.

“Clearly you have absorbed the gist of the appropriate technique. Wonderful... yes.” Eliza motioned encouragingly toward him as she rapidly stepped back once, and then twice. “That was excellent progress.”

She darted to his sideboard, and curiously made a motion towards him with her pointer fingers, as if she were firing small guns? “Hats off to you, sir.”

Taking his whisky glass, she nodded quickly as she sipped a long draught. She was suddenly at the chair behind his desk, a good few feet away. She spun as if to leave.

Instead she seemed to remember that the glass in her hand was not, in fact, her own drink. “Oh! I apologise. This is yours.”

Eliza turned once more in confusion, before putting the glass on his papers, a touch too swiftly to be delicate. The glass tilted slightly to the left as the papers depressed under the weight of it. “So very sorry.” She absently dropped into another half curtsy.

Henry’s head ached as he watched her rapidly approach the door. But he knew he should not stop her. She was right. He really did know nothing about feelings or flirtation.

Just when he thought he ought to crawl into his bedroom and give up on being part of good society forever, Eliza turned a final time. Her hand was still on the door, but she paused, and said quickly. “I will see you tomorrow, and we’ll try again with Lady Julia.”

*

“Is that  _Lord Higgs_? I thought you said he was in the country, Eliza!”

Eliza had no clue why Lady Bryn’s book club had such a decided interest in Henry’s affairs. And in any case Henry  _was_  in the country, at Lord and Lady Saperstein’s anniversary party, likely romancing the day away with Lady Julia at that very moment. Perhaps it was only fair that he had absconded, after the way she had all but thrown herself at him, when she could no longer deny her own feelings. Of all the stupid, reckless, things to do! And now she could no longer face her best friend. Perhaps her only friend, if this book club meeting ended the same way as the last had.

In any case, his sudden absence was the excuse she’d given them for the last minute invitation to her house. Eliza was an eminently social creature and facing a week alone, without any reclusive Lords to advise on romantic matters, was an unappealing scenario.

“He looks mighty impressive on that white charger. Doesn’t he Prue?”

Eliza refrained from rolling her eyes. Really for bunch of bluestockings they were altogether too distractible. Finally she turned on the chaise to eye the ladies who were clustered around her front window.

Surely he wasn’t  _really_ -

At that very moment there was an impatient knock at her front door and her butler proceeded past the front parlour to answer it.

Almost instantly, the scattered ladies flew back to their chairs and carefully arranged themselves about the room in studious repose, as her butler announced her newest guest. “Lord Henry Higgs to see you, madam.”

“Eliza-”

Henry’s greatcoat swirled about his muddy Hessians as he stopped abruptly just past the parlour door, seemingly startled by the presence of a half dozen more ladies in the room than he had expected.

Eliza had never been more grateful of convention as she turned her burning face away from him and swept into the deepest curtsy she could manage. As she rose, she heard the rustle of the others settling in to watch the drama unfold.

“This is so perfectly Austenian!” Lady Bryn murmured to the room, apparently fascinated. “Although surely Mr Darcy would not abide muddy Hessians in the parlour.”

Henry paused as if to question that sentiment before shaking his head and addressing Eliza directly.

“Eliza-”

“I have been a member of this book club for three years, and she gets a proposal on her first day!?”

Eliza gave Lady Wren a quelling look before turning back to Henry. “Uh... Hen-  _Lord Higgs_. What are you doing here?”

Henry seemed relieved she had taken charge of the situation, but before he could utter another word, Lady Prue asked flutteringly. “Is it that she completes you??” She clasped her hands before her in rapture at the thought.

Eliza was about to order them all from the room, but Henry stepped forward and took her hand lightly in his. It seemed whatever he had to come to do could wait no longer.

Eliza searched his face in confusion. He seemed rather calmly patient for all that he was publicly touching her. In all the time she had known Henry, he had never so much as casually offered her his arm at the park. That had never stopped her claiming it anyway, but really! What on earth was he about?

“Miss Dooley, do you dance?”

Of all the things-! Would the man ever cease to infuriate her?

“Yes, of course I do Henry. You personally offered several cutting criticisms of my style only two weeks past. I believe the words gangly giraffe were uttered.”

“Well- no one is perfect.” Was Henry  _smiling_? How perfectly obnoxious! “May I have the first dance with you at Lady Joan’s ball tomorrow night?”

“I- well, yes I suppose. But how did you know-”

“-and we have known each other for some months now haven’t we Miss Dooley?”

Eliza suddenly realized exactly what Henry was doing. And also that she was perfectly uninterested in an avid audience of romantic bluestockings, who would inevitably interrupt at some inopportune moment.

“I believe so, Lord Higgs.” She raised a playful brow at him, before turning to the ladies still watching closely behind her. “Do you wish for a private audience Lord Higgs?”

“Very much so.”

With a few unsubtle jerks of her head Eliza finally indicated to Lady Bryn that it was long past time for the book club to adjourn their meeting.

When the room had cleared, and they were alone at long last, Eliza smiled up at Henry. His hair was quite wild, and she noticed his buckskins were also speckled with mud. Had he ridden all the way from Lord Saperstein’s estate?

“Could you not have stopped to give your poor horse a rest, and combed your hair?”

“I could not wait a single second more, Eliza.”

He placed his other hand at her waist and pulled her gently forward. Taking his hand from hers, he slipped it halfway into her hair, upon her nape. She braced herself against his broad shoulders. He was smiling quite lazily now. Eliza dared not breathe; she was so very close to him.

He leaned forward, still looking right at her. She felt as if she was melting right into his eyes.

“I hope you intend to kiss me Eliza. Because I do love you. Beyond reason, and propriety, and I think sense-”

And then she kissed him.

A good while later they lay together on her chaise, with their arms still about each other.

He was twirling one of her curls around his finger when he said, “You know I had a whole speech prepared. It was quite good.”

“You can read it to me later. Or-” here she titled her face up to his. “-you can use them as vows! Although I do warn you, if you take as long to read your vows as you did to profess your love, I shall have to jump on you at the altar and scandalize the entire ton.”

“Good.” He kissed her firmly once more. “I’m sure Lady Joan won’t object to me bringing my very fashionable wife to her dinner parties. We are quite a winning combination.”

At this Eliza sat up and crossed her arms. “I am no one’s uninvited guest! I am a diamond of the first water! I am sure she will invite me of my own accord. As you explained she quite likes me, she just didn’t think I should marry Freddy.”

“Well neither did I, if you recall. You are extraordinary Eliza, and far more than I or any other man deserve.”

“Just admit it, you worship me.” Eliza pulled down on Henry’s cravat, mussing its carefully tied proportions. “It’s quite acceptable now. We are to be married, you know.”

“Well I- that is. I have grown accustomed to your face.” He cleared his throat and smiled again before whispering quickly. “And I believe the words are, ‘with my body I thee worship’.”

It turned out Henry had suspected rightly. He did not very much mind being jumped on after all.

*

**Author's Note:**

> written for ghostcat3000's fanworks festivus 2015 on tumblr. :) thanks for reminding me to post this on ao3.


End file.
